Conquer Your Fear and Make It Your Friend.

According
to The Book of Lists, fear of public speaking ranks
number one in the minds of a majority of people.

Far above the
fear of death and disease, comes fear of standing in front
of a crowd. We all want to be movie stars, but are terrified of
the spotlight. I have some opinions about why this happens, to
be covered in a future article.

My first public humiliation came when, as a top-heavy mushroom
in a second grade play, I fell off the stage. I hid for weeks.
Kids are more cruel than any other species of animal, since they
tell the truth. Surely I would never be a whole human being again.
I might as well have died. Two days later, all of the other kids
had forgotten the whole thing.

My next memory of public speaking was in the fifth grade,
when Ms. Norris the Nasty announced, "Mr. Eggleston, your
10 minute speech will be, The influence of Persian Literature
on the New Jersey Turnpike Design," or something equally
stupid -- I bombed.

Finally, I had a temper tantrum. It was
on stage, in assembly. I will always remember how the words were
propelled from me by some supernatural, alien force.

"Miss (We Didn't Have Ms. in those Days) Norris, I
spent all year trying to get somebody to listen to me. Now that
I get to talk why can't I talk about what I want to
say?"

After having to write I must not yell at the teacher in assembly,
500 times, I discovered that I had earned a new respect among my
peers. I was an INSTIGATOR! This rebellious nature stuck
with me through today. I have learned to channel it somewhat, and
temper it a lot, but it is nevertheless there, and is now an
asset rather than a liability.

What has this little anecdote added to the message?

Not a lot,
except I just told you two of what appeared at the time, to be the most embarrassing moments in
my life. It was
not the end of the world.

Soon, I realized that as long as I
believed in what I was saying, I could say it! The more passionately
I believed it, the more passionately I talked about it.

The true awakening came many years later when I realized
that umpty Million years from now, when the Sun burns the
Earth to a cinder, that stupid mushroom is not very important in
the cosmic sense.

I stopped worrying about what people think of me,
when I realized how seldom people think of anyone but themselves.

There is no secret trick to public speaking, there is only confidence.

If you can not begin by having confidence in yourself, you must
begin by having confidence in your message.

I was an obtuse bore, but eventually
someone asked me to come talk to their customers about my current
obsession, quality. How many people could it be, 8 or ten? I arrived
at a building that looked like a city on Krypton and suddenly got
that fear again.

When I was ushered into a quiet little conference room, complete
a very civilized setting of tea and biscuits, I lost a bit of that fear.

I began re-rehearsing
what I was going to say. I focused on how I was going to concentrate
on only one person at a time, and talk personally to every one, even
if there were as many as 15 or 20 people.

From time to time,
someone would pop their head in to announce that the audience would
arrive in ten or fifteen minutes. On the five minute call, I paid
a visit to the john, and was ready for the worst.

Eventually someone popped in and with the tone of a judge invoking
death by slow torture said, "Mr. Eggleston, you're Up."

I sort of blindly followed her into this grand auditorium, filled
with more people that have ever existed in one space since Woodstock.
The house lights were up, and I could see all of their faces. Worse
yet, they could see me. Is my tie straight, is my shirt stained,
oh my God is my fly down?.....

Help me, I'm dying out here!

Nerves are good.
They help you think of details you might otherwise forget. A ittle fear is healthy, it keeps you from becoming complacent.

I heard the last syllable of my name over a PA speaker that surely
belonged in Yankee Stadium. A deep-voiced, macho announcer shook my hand, pointed me to a white dot in front of a microphone,
and pronounced sentence on my soul.

Out it came --- "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, my name is Steve Eggleston,
and I'm here to help you get excited about quality!"

Now wait -- anticipate -- "My God, I have their attention!
No tomatoes, cream pies, boos or Bronx cheers. Hey, that was pretty
easy, I'm going to go for it."

I stepped out of the character that was Steve Eggleston, the hesitant paranoid, and into the character that was T. Stephen Eggleston, confident
public speaker, expert on the subject, slayer of production dragons and all around super-hero.

I have little memory of my performance, only that when it was
over, there was applause. I was at once exhilarated and exhausted.

I could easily see how applause can be addicting.

This presentation, however, was a very well scripted and thoroughly rehearsed
speech. (Possibly overly so.) But the client,had not finished with me.
The announcer stepped to the mike and announced on my behalf;

Oh no -- free fall -- no net -- no Kevlar
vest! Worse still, I would have no carefully scripted character behind
which to hide! This wasn't in the agreement!

But here, however, I could talk to one person at a time. I could let
my gaze wander while I was speaking, but would always return to
that one person, the one with the question.

When I finished the question and answer session, there was
again, applause. I knew I had done well, and was booked for a repeat
performance.

From that trial by fire forward I would never again find myself
terrified of a live audience.

Yes, I get nervous, but it is not the counterproductive gnawing
fear that I had shared with so many other people. Nerves are good.
They help you think of details you might otherwise forget. "Check
Your Tie, Check Your Fly, Say It Right then Say Good-bye!"

Coming to a minor revelation, I realized that the "rules" for
speaking that I had heard for years were true. Know your subject,
prepare both intellectually and emotionally, speak with confidence,
and be sincere, whether you mean it or not.

The next hurdle was the Television Camera. I had spent a lot of
time behind a camera, as a still photographer, and as a
fill in studio camera operator for a Washington, DC television
station, but the front of one was a different story. Again,
some rules apply.

One of the secrets of being a good photographer of people is
to relate to the subject, and get them to relate to you. If done
well, the camera soon ceases to exist. It becomes an extension
of the photographer's persona.

When it finally became my turn in the television lights, I arrived
early, and introduced myself to the camera operators. Not just
a "Hi, I'm Steve," but I took time to chit-chat with
them for a few minutes while they were setting up. Since I established
a prior dialogue with each of them (at least in my mind,) it
was relatively easy to look through the camera, and speak
to the person behind it.

I pretended that the camera crew, stage manager and director
were interested in what I had to say. They verified their interest
when they vied for my attention by turning on little red lights
on top of their cameras.

Still cameras, however, continue to make my toes curl and I'd rather face a loaded gun. Fortunately
I am adept at avoiding both.

PS: If you are afraid of speaking because
you have a voice like a rusty bucket of broken glass being
stirred with a dull chainsaw, I have only one word for you;
Ross Perot!